Angel of Music
by The Diamond Princess
Summary: A Batman fanfic - or should I say phanfic? - written in Damian's P.O.V. about how all of us, even the most hardened and brutal of us, craves the simple protection of an angel. Please rate and review!


Angel of Music

_Guardian angel_.

Such misleading words. I hated them. People said that, no matter who you were, everyone had a guardian angel that watched over them and protected them, but they were wrong. As I'd learned at a very early age, no one mourned the wicked, and guardian angels protected only the good people, which I very well knew I was not, so who was I to care?

But yet, as the days passed, a dull, hollow ache began to grow within me, only intensified by seeing that damned Helena's face every day and hearing her voice. She was my sister, yes, both in the biological and legal senses, but for all I cared, she could have been a random stranger I saw on the street once and never again.

Her voice, though, certainly intrigued me. Soft and musical, with an ethereal breathiness, it left me completely breathless every time she spoke, but it was a completely different story when she sang. When she sang, it was as if a seraph was singing. I had heard that her voice was beautiful enough to bring Todd and even Father to tears on occasion, though I had yet to see it for myself.

Due to her voice, one of Father's favorite nicknames for her was Angel of Music. When I had casually asked why he called her such a thing, he had explained that the nickname had come from Andrew Lloyd Webber's world-renowned musical _The Phantom of the Opera_, which had turned out to be nothing more than an old man's drug-induced musical drivel about an orphaned Swedish soprano girl who sings at a Paris opera house and a hideously deformed opera maestro know only as "the Phantom," but who she knew as the Angel of Music due to his breathtaking voice that gave her vocal lessons and was obsessively in love with her.

Nevertheless, the ache grew more with each passing day and I could feel it beginning to soften me greatly. Whenever Helena so much as sent me a smile or held my hand as we walked to school, I craved it like some kind of illegal drug and, shaken to my very core by what I was feeling, snatched my hand out of hers immediately, trying to pretend that had never happened.

I increasingly spent more and more time training in the Batcave, trying to make the ache go away. I _would not_ give in to my bloodthirsty urge to kill once more, after what had happened that one time. I wanted so hard for Father to be proud of me, and I would not stop until I achieved that goal.

One day, after I arrived home from school, I heard beautiful scraps of music coming from Helena's room that I immediately recognized as _Phantom of the Opera_. Pressing my ear against the door to hear more, I memorized them all – she was playing them in order – and my favorites became "Wandering Child," "Angel of Music," "Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again," and especially "Music of the Night." While _The_ _Phantom of the Opera_ was, for the most part, just drivel, it did have some marginally redeeming qualities.

That very same night, there was an awful rainstorm and, due to the position of my bedroom, it was very cold and I couldn't sleep. While I lay tossing and turning and trying to get warm, Helena suddenly grabbed my hand and dragged me over to her room, tossing me down on the blankets. It was so warm, I could go to sleep right there.

Helena proceeded to pull me up and put me on her lap. For a few minutes, I just sat there, completely and utterly helpless to do anything at all while she stroked my hair gently, pressing kisses to my eyelids, cheeks, temple, and forehead, all while humming "Wandering Child." It was completely terrifying and completely exhilarating all at once.

Slowly and gradually, I could feel the all-consuming ache leaving me and being replaced by some completely new emotion that was utterly foreign to me. I was so warm and drowsy, it didn't matter, so I let the lull of the song drag me into a dark, sleepy world.

I woke with a start before dawn as sunlight was creeping in through the windows. Gasping and sweating, I tumbled out of Helena's bed and raced toward my own, trembling slightly as the lyrics to "Music of the Night" dancing around in my skull. All of us, with the exceptions of Helena and Grayson, were creatures of the night.

In the days to come, I was plagued by strange dreams, in which I was standing in a field of fire. There was heat everywhere, and I could feel my skin start to melt. Two figures stood about thirty-five or so paces away from me. On the left, there was Mother, dressed in combat gear and looking more lethal than I had ever seen her, with black smoke curling around her feet. On the right was a hooded figure wearing a pure white cloak, black curls peeking out. I could not see its face, but, judging from the curls, it most likely was a girl.

"_Come to your Angel of Music_," the hooded figure sang, holding out her hands, and her voice sounded so much like Helena's.

Terrified, I took a miniscule step forward, but then black tendrils of smoke shot out at me, wrapping themselves around my body. The more I struggled, the tighter they became, until I could see nothing but pure blackness and hear nothing, not even the cloaked figure beckoning me gently forward.

Terrified, I woke, gasping and sobbing, pressing my palms against my chest where the monster of grief had eaten my heart. Stumbling out of bed, I ran toward Helena's room, throwing myself on top of her and burying my head in the crook of her neck to try and calm down.

"Dami!" Helena cried worriedly, sitting up immediately. Instinctively, I clung tighter to her, not wanting to let go.

"Baby, what's wrong?" she asked, pulling me away gently and staring into my eyes.

"_Angel of Music, hide no longer, secret and strange Angel_," I half-sang, half-sobbed, burying myself in her blankets. I wanted to cuddle up with her, more than anything, but could not bring myself.

Ever so gently, I felt her ease off the bed, walk off toward somewhere, and sit back down. She then proceeded to gently pry off the covers, stroking my wet left cheek with her thumb. I sat back up, spying a glimpse of something polished gleaming in the darkness. I picked it up. A small hand mirror.

Using the moonlight to look into the mirror, I was disgusted with what I saw. My face was red and blotchy, my eyes swollen, puffy, and bloodshot.

"_Look at your face in the mirror, I am there inside_," Helena sang softly, taking the mirror from me and angling so we could both see our reflections. "Look, Dami," she whispered. "We have the same eye shape, nose, chin, and hair. I'll always be there with you."

With a half-sob, half-groan, I buried my face in the crook of her neck, my nose coming into contact with the chain of her cross. As if sensing what I was thinking, Helena took it off and pressed it into my hands, pressing hers over mine.

"_Somehow_," she sang softly, "_I know He's always with me, He the Unseen Genius_."

With that, she promptly enfolded me into her arms, pressing light, soft kisses made out sugar to my face once more. Never had I felt so safe. So safe. So loved. Her arms grew and expanded, turning into great white wings that promised to forever shelter me from whatever horrors the world held.

For the first time, I knew the healing touch of an angel. Angels soothed you, sheltered you from evil, and carried you on the journey of life when you were too weak to stand up on your own.

Blissfully, I relaxed against her, letting her gentle, healing wings take me into the foggy mists of sleep.

A/N: Alright, loves! This here is the first Batman fanfic – or should I say phanfic? – that I've published in quite a long time. When I wrote my first one, it was the summer of eighth grade, and now I'm well into my freshman year of high school and doing fabulously. For those of you who love _Phantom_, like me, you'll obviously recognize it. I was a little surprised how the lyrics could work so well in such a different situation. I mean, Helena uses the words about the unseen genius to talk about God, which brings me to another topic. I'm a Christian, and I know I'm going to lose some readers if I mention Him, but you know what? I DON'T CARE! I love Him, and He loves me, too. I'll respect your beliefs if you respect mine. Anyway, I wanted to write this because I had _Phantom_ lyrics buzzing around in my head and I was itching to write a Helena/Damian story which showed his vulnerability and hunger for love, and I think I pulled it off quite well. This was quite an emotional piece for me to write and I nearly cried. (I am not responsible if you cry!) Please read, review, and enjoy!

Love,

The Diamond Princess


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